


Three Experiences with Love

by MiracleDreamer



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: But just me writing at 2am, Falling In Love, First Love, Fluff, I love all these ships tbh, I wanted to write well, Implied Sexual Content, Love, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Poetic, The first two ships are just, The last one stays, This was made on a whim, Vague, Wordplay, and this happened, cause im trash, experiences, its like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 09:18:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11158896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiracleDreamer/pseuds/MiracleDreamer
Summary: He recalls his three experiences with love.The first one didn't feel quite right.The second one wouldn't have lasted.The third one is his everything.





	Three Experiences with Love

**Author's Note:**

> I just made this in like an hour and it's two in the morning...
> 
> I use the word their because I felt like it ??? I feels better to use it, I don't know why
> 
> And Ohm is constantly referred to as him. It just happened.

A ballad of love was the name he stuck with. That's how it felt like, no matter the seasons that sparkled in the background. Everything around felt delicate, shrouded in mist that he couldn't navigate, that exploded into his senses and made him want to tear up.

 

But it was never always because of pain. Light and airy, that's how he felt. Catching onto his fingertips, the feel of silk soothing him as the smell of spring broke into the atmosphere. Everything felt certain, sensitive, and he was completely enamored with it.

 

He wondered if this was really love. Everyone around him said that love would hurt, it would grab onto you and become a parasite. Unbearable, ripping through all his common sense and making him snap and break rules he never would break before. He would run after the person, forget about everything else and just focus on the sole being that made your heart ache.

 

He didn't believe it at first. Love couldn't make someone irrational. It just didn't work that way. Love etched into you, marked you with patterns that he was sure you could stitch out if needed.

 

His first love was blue, teaching him that he couldn't stop the curiosity coursing through him.

 

Love was convenient with his first love. They've known each for years, it felt satisfying. Nothing felt out of place, it felt safe. Locked in place, something reassuring, a soft blanket that covered him from head to toe. Lips grazing, watching stars as they melted into each other’s embrace. Chasing the warmth in each other’s company and giggling over moments in movies that felt too out of place. Blue and grey sweaters would disappear in their closets, the other taking sweaters because it made them remember they had a piece of the other, no matter how material.

 

This love could only be described as security. To know that someone you know would take another step forward, it makes you happy, giddy even. It gives you an option to just settle down and forget about exploring anymore. It's not exactly delicate, but it does smell like home and it makes you crave for more. Attention is crucial in a human, no matter how much they negate it. They expand on interaction, bringing each other close until death do them apart.

 

However, love like this wasn't actual love. As the months went on, he realized that it didn't give him the grasp he was hoping for. No big explosion of butterflies, no wicked twist in his gut when they smirked or said something racy in a secluded spot. The attention on him was heartwarming, a hearth of everything that made him smile lazily. Linking hands felt natural, yet it wasn't anything he wasn't expecting. It didn't  _ pop _ , didn't make him curl into a ball and smile about their touches all day.

 

It was just there.

 

Breaking up with them was surprisingly easy. They didn't try to make him stay. They knew it was for the best, it would give them space and they would stay as friends. It didn't leave a bad taste in his mouth, it just gave him a emptiness that made him stare into his coffee for too long. It’s when he discovered that after having your first love, craving love and attention, touches and kisses became common. He didn't miss them though, nothing like that. 

 

It just felt like pushing his furniture back into the previous set up. The new set up had been more clear, flashier, a nice change everyone seemed to like.  _ Except for him. _ So he dubbed the previous set up as better, no matter how many years he's had it that way.

 

His second love was red, making him experience a lesson on no matter how intense it was, intensity could never replace a slew of lies.

 

His second love was nothing like the first. It was fast, love at first sight fast. A common thing in the world, for it seemed communication and complete understanding was only a rarity obtained in true soulmates. Something he found himself longing for at points, but the bursts of butterflies he found scrambling every time he saw his second love.

 

Their second love was intense. It was an addiction, a drug that made him melt and submit. Their touches scorched him, built him up and drove him over the edge. Their nights were usually spent cooped up in rooms, exploring each other’s bodies and exposing their vulnerable parts to let teeth scrape against them.

 

It was exciting. Everything felt new, felt surreal. It wasn't anything like the first, the taste of love and passion clinging to them daily. Jumbled slurs that sounded like confessions were easy to spill, especially with the other pressing their body into his. Everything was on fire, sparking and igniting him until he was out cold. An intoxication that blew him out of his mind, stealing everything from him with experimentation and hard kisses. He indulged in everything, forgetting about everything with just a simple flick of the wrist.

 

It didn't seem to last, sadly. Nights became less frequent, fleeting hugs and kisses became constrained. The fire was slowly burning out, suffocating in his own pool of confusion. Arguments were conceived from nowhere, resulting in rough handling, hands grazing down his back as the whole world spun and the coiling in his gut meant something else entirely, diverting his anger into energy to make the moment last.

 

He learned about the other person from his friends. He expected it, just never that soon. Self pity drained him then, the step to finally finish their crumbling relationship executed as cleanly as he could. His second love didn't even blink, they left with hands in their pockets, leaving him to feel pathetic as he cried over a person who only embraced him for physical pleasure.

 

An imprint of how love could hurt was made that day. He understood it then, curling up into himself and trying his best to forget about the rose kisses and nights bathed in moonlight, sheets pooled around them as they became one. Eventually, he did move on, only picking up the good pieces and running with them, hoping to keep them as a reminder as to what could happen with love.

 

His third love was purple, giving him a reason to finally believe in love.

 

This love was everything he read in books. It had to have time to grow, expanding into vines and cultivating itself into the center of his heart. He practically vibrated with joy with his third love around, a blast of colorful emotions that left him breathless. 

 

Everything about them made him smile until his cheeks ached. Their smile, their laugh, the way they moved or the unmistakable positivity in their voice. Sunlight poured out of them, lighting up even his darkest days. He felt like he was floating, drowning, having to gulp for air but it never felt wrong.

 

This is when he finally believed that love could be a good thing. No matter their flaws, his third love truly was splendid. A flowing fountain, one that had rocks but they could be accepted. Love laced into him, made him love them more each day and night, the hours passed with them at his side. Candles and roses, eyes meeting and the blazing security that he couldn't get enough of was everything he felt with his third love. He tried with them, letting them make him a better person. In return, he helped them in every way he could, comforting them and making them feel at home.

 

Because he wanted to be their home. He wanted them to know that they could tell him anything. He adored them, his life gravitated towards theirs in a way that knocked his breath out. He swore every time he saw them, they grew brighter. It made him want to protect them, to keep them until death really did do them apart.

 

And the miraculous thing was, they wanted to do the same thing with him.

 

Love was wholesome when found in the right place, a never ending cycle that everyone should deserve to experience. It should be heart stopping, enough to make them feel whole and to make them grow into a better person. It should let them discover more possibilities in the horizon, let them always remember they have at least one place to return to.

 

Finding love was a ballad that he enjoyed. Experience always did make him happier.

 

And finding this third love made him ecstatic.

 

_ “What are you writing?” A quirky voice asked behind him, arms encircling his neck. Blonde hair tickled his cheek, blue eyes sparkling with a genuine delight. _

 

_ He only quirked an eyebrow, a warm smile placed on his lips as he basked in the warmth of the body behind him. _

 

_ “Experiences with love.” _

**Author's Note:**

> Leave comments, I want to know what you guys think of this mess ! 
> 
> Hmu on my Tumblr: fantasyeuphoriaandlace
> 
> I'm so tired I'm gonna pass out now sorry for mistakes I'll fix them tomorrow


End file.
